


Home

by seraphina13



Category: Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, first confessions, fluffy with a little bit of spice, these nerds finally verbally communicate emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 19:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6672262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphina13/pseuds/seraphina13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Home'. Just saying the word left an ashy taste in Asa Adaar's mouth--at least it did, until a certain Qunari warrior came charging into her life. What does this new revelation mean, and how will she cope with her past ghosts coming back to haunt her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if any of the characters seem OOC! I'm still learning how to write them--which is hard when I do not have access to my save files right now.  
> Anyway, this is my first (published) fanfic and I have no beta. But enjoy nonetheless! :)

The trek through Emprise du Lion was brutal, the group running into trouble with every other step. Rifts and demons and snowstorms—maybe even the occasional dragon or two. The 3-week trip had extended to 5, and it seemed as if they were doomed to the freezing tundra for eternity. They were currently hiking back to Suledin Keep after a few long days of tracking down rifts. Asa glanced back at her friends, taking notice of the disgruntled scowl living on Dorian’s handsome face.  


“Mountains. Cold. ‘Let’s bring Dorian’!” The grumpy mage grumbled under his breath and Asa could swear she saw icicles gathering on his usually pristine mustache. Biting back her observation and amusement, she smiled at him apologetically.  


“I apologize. I would have thought a distinguished mage such as yourself would be able to conjure up some heat.” She let go of the shit eating grin she was holding back—which only caused the scowl to deepen, despite the reluctant amusement she saw glinting in his eyes.  


“Fine fine, I understand! Just laugh at the mage who is currently dying of hypothermia!” He retorted through chattering teeth. Cole’s head snapped up and his brow furrowed.  


“But Dorian, you aren’t dying.” The statement came out a question. Asa snickered behind her hand at the exasperated look the spirit received.  


“We talked about this Cole, you agree with me so she’ll feel bad and have to treat me better!” Dorian whispered loudly, grinning at the eye roll and groan it elicited from their illustrious leader.  


“Stop corrupting the poor kid Dorian! Don’t listen to him Cole, you’re too honest for him.” The over dramatic gasp it drew from the Tevinter made her laugh echo through the canyon.  


But just as soon as the laughter left her lips, her mark came alive and a spark of pain made its way up her veins. Her teeth clacked shut and she felt a large hand rest on her lower back. She looked up and gazed at the face of The Iron Bull, who was uncharacteristically quiet during the bantering. If someone else were to look at him they would see the stoic but relaxed mask he wore—but she saw the concern that wrinkled his brow slightly.  


“Boss? You okay?” She swore she could feel the rumble of his voice down in her bones. Her cheeks warmed and she glanced at her pulsating, glowing hand.  


“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” She touched his arm and smiled softly. It was an unusual circumstance, mainly because they had agreed to keep the PDA to a minimum in front of prying eyes—the prying eyes that belonged to a certain loudmouthed mage. Tightening her grip on his arm slightly, she felt her heart flutter at the small token of affection. He smirked back knowingly, the concern lessening slightly but not completely.  


“Ahem. As much as I am enjoying this show, we need to get back to the keep before night falls and we are eaten by Maker knows what.” Dorian shuffled impatiently, still chilled, despite the flame he managed to conjure for heat. Cole wandered closer to the small beacon of warmth nestled in the mage’s hands. Bull stepped back and dropped his hands back to his sides and Asa suddenly felt the chill that Dorian suffered from.  


“Yes, sorry. Suledin should not be too far now.”

**

The gates of Suledin Keep were a blessing to their eyes, and Asa felt as if her legs were going to give out at the sight. ‘I haven’t slept in a real bed in days!’ She quickened her pace and heard the trumpets announcing their return. All that mattered to her at the moment was finding a bath, a semi-warm meal, and a resting place. She looked back at her companions and found that they wore similar faces of longing, and they all but ran into the keep.

**

_She was running again. Well, she had run many times in her life but this time it was different. Her long legs were pushing her forward, feet pounding at the earth below in a frantic rhythm. She didn’t know if she was running towards or away from something, but the fear that sat in her heart was reason enough to keep going. Her jet black eyes were thrown wide open, frantically searching for any sight of danger. Suddenly, a growl broke through the air and her foot caught in an exposed root of a tree. She tumbled down, only to find herself bouncing painfully down a steep slope. She heard the hollow thump of her body hitting the ground, but was so consumed by fear and panic that pain had not registered yet, ‘Going to feel that in the morning’. Asa took in her surroundings, still confused as to what was happening—until she saw a vaguely familiar footpath. She picked herself up gingerly, wincing at the pain that blossomed along the right side of her body. All of the hesitation that lingered in her mind was quickly thrown to the wind when a low growl reverberated in the air around her. She glanced around the dark woods, swearing she could see glowing crimson eyes staring back at her frozen form. Wait here and get eaten by Maker knows what, or walk down a damned path? The choice seemed clear enough. Gathering all the strength left in her bruised limbs, she began to make her way down the downtrodden path. The path would not have been noticeable to someone who did not know what to look for—and the moment of realization slammed squarely into her chest. She was back._

**

With a gasp, she snapped her eyes open widely. Where was she? What is happening? Panic flared to life in her chest, but was quelled by the loud snore that came from the naked form beside her. Turning her head, she took in the magnificent sight that was The Iron Bull. He was sprawled on his back, his right arm and leg dangling off of the small bed they shared. Her horned head had rested carefully on his large bicep, and she blushed at the small puddle of drool that had gathered. She gingerly reached out and wiped the incriminating evidence from his skin, and could almost hear his good natured laughter at her embarrassment ring in her ears. His snores abruptly halted at the contact and she froze, forcing herself not to squeak in shock. She was still wound up from the dream, which set her nerves on end. Once his breathing evened out, she quickly but softly padded across the room, gathering discarded clothes along the way. ‘If only he wore shirts’, she thought wryly while slipping into her plain tunic and pants. She needed to get some air before she suffocated from the jumbled nerves that sat heavy in her belly. Peeking her head out of the door into the hallway, she smiled softly and waved to the nearby patrolling guard. The young man jumped at her sudden appearance, but quickly gathered his composure. Poor sod was assigned to stand guard near her room, despite her protests at needing one. With the recent attempts on her life, her advisors were exasperated at her unwillingness to have soldiers at her side constantly. Asa pressed her slender finger to her lips and he nodded in understanding.  


“Why don’t you get yourself a drink soldier?” She whispered softly, careful not to wake any nearby residents. The young man hesitated, staring at her with a question lingering in his eyes.  


“It’s quite alright. Don’t make me put my foot down.” She forced a joking grin, and he finally understood that it was her polite way of saying ‘sod off’.  


“Yes, Herald.” He saluted and backed away, hesitation still painted in his features. ”I—I can tell the others to avoid this area for a bit. I-if you’d like!” He stuttered, blushing furiously. She smiled in earnest this time, quickly nodding. He smiled nervously and hurried down the long corridor, disappearing through the heavy wooden door that separated the living quarters from the rest of the keep.

She sighed out of relief as the door closed with a soft thud, shoulders sagging. Was everyone intimidated by her? She couldn’t hold a decent conversation without someone tripping over words or cowering. She couldn’t help that she was seven-foot-tall, or that she just so happened to have horns and solid black eyes. Running her hands through her inky black hair, she moved towards the windows that lined the hallway. _‘Josephine has made large improvements on the keep despite not leaving Skyhold at all’_ , Asa absentmindedly thought as she pushed the windows open. The keep was definitely ten times better than it was when they found it all of those months ago, she admitted.  


A cool breeze washed over her flushed skin blissfully, briefly distracting her from her jumbled thoughts. The candelabras nearby snuffed out at the breeze, bathing her and her surroundings in moonlight. Pulling her waist long hair to the side, she ran her fingers through the knots that had started to form. What was that dream all about? _‘I haven’t thought of… home in a long time.’_ With good reason, she added. Why pick at a wound that had long since healed—albeit not so well, but enough that she could push it to the farthest corners of her mind. She had enough to worry about nowadays, she was the damned Herald of Andraste! The “chosen” of the Maker’s Bride. Asa rolled her eyes and leaned against the window sill. As if the humans and their chantry believed something as ridiculous as that. A Vashoth, the chosen one? And a mage at that? _‘The Maker must be shitting himself.’_

She leaned heavily against the wall, gripping the stone beneath her shaking palms. _‘The last thing I need is to open doors I’ve closed’_. She shut her eyes and took deep breathes, trying to forget the gruesome images she had managed to suppress for 20 years. But despite her feeble attempts to calm herself down, panic began to bubble beneath her skin again. Pinpricks of memories jabbed at her, and she knotted her hands in her hair painfully. _‘Leave me alone, leave me alone, please please please…’_ She clamped her teeth onto her bottom lip in a feeble attempt to stop the soft sobs pouring out of her lungs, but to no avail. She didn’t know how long she stood there--a sobbing and trembling mess--or recall when Bull appeared at her side.  


“Asa.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and she felt as if she was going to fall apart under his touch. Her sobs grew louder and she turned into him, burying her face against his bare chest. His arms snaked around her waist, gripping tightly--as if she was going to shatter if he didn’t hold on tight enough. She threw her arms around his thick neck, squeezing back just as much. Her keening cries rebounded off of the stone walls, echoing through the keep like the cries of a banshee. Unwarranted memories flooded her senses, her legs giving out beneath the crushing force of them all. Bull scooped her into his arms, pressing kisses and comforting words into the crown of her head.  


“Shh, Asa. Asaraanda. It’s alright, I’m here.” He carried her back into their room, shutting the door quietly. If she was in her right mindset, she would feel guilty at the ruckus she was causing, but instead her cries turned into soft, pathetic whimpers. Bull sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her to him, waiting for her to calm.  


“I’m sorry..” She croaked finally, roughly rubbing the tears off of her face. He brushed her hands aside and gently wiped her cheeks with his thumb.  


“For what? Nothing to apologize for.” She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off, “Everyone needs to decompress once and awhile. You’re under a lot of stress dealing with asshole demons and Orlesians, you deserve to let out a good cry.” The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk, and she gave him a watery smile. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she was so grateful he wasn’t pressing her for answers. _‘I don’t deserve such a patient soul.’_ Her fingers brushed against his jaw lightly, savoring the roughness of his stubble. He leaned into her hand and smiled, a soft noise of contentment rumbling in his chest. She paused her ministrations and he opened his eyes, momentarily confused. Asa pulled herself up to him, her hands pressed firmly to his chest, and her lips lingering a breath away from his.  


“I love you.” She whispered, eyes flicking up to his and back down to his lips. She felt his breath catch beneath her palms. She began to pull away when he didn’t answer, her stomach dropping to the floor. Had she read into this too much? She had a tendency to do that. His hand gripped her waist tightly and she stopped. A small spark of hope lit in her heart, and when she looked into his eyes her heart was consumed. The smile spreading across his face almost turned her into a puddle in his lap.  


Suddenly, she was being pressed into the mattress underneath Bull’s hulking form. He peppered kisses along her jaw and down her throat, nibbling on her clavicles gently. She squeaked and laughed breathlessly,  


“I’m guessing you approve?” He smothered the words with his mouth, kissing her like a man starved. A small moan escaped from her and she kissed him back fervently, ripping a low noise of approval from his throat. Large hands ran up and down the length of her body, which was arching into his with every stroke. With every passing of his warm, calloused hands, she could feel the shattered pieces of herself pulling themselves together. Asa’s heartbeat roared in her pointed ears, and she felt as if her body was being consumed by a loving inferno. He pulled away, supporting himself on one arm and his opposite hand continued to roam the planes of her body. Cupping her face, he kissed her tenderly.  


“Kadan.” He whispered, and the world stopped. Her eyes widened and she blinked owlishly up at him with her onyx gaze.  


“Kadan?” She whispered back breathlessly, barely able to hear herself over the roaring in her ears. Her heart felt as if it was going to fly out of her chest. _‘Kadan!’_  


“My heart.” He murmured lovingly, gazing down at her with such intensity that her own heart squeezed almost painfully. She couldn’t hold back the squeal that bubbled from her, tackling him onto his back. The bed protested under their weight, but they happily ignored it.  


His rich laugh filled the small room they were in and the world was swept from beneath her feet. She rained kisses onto his face with a delicate touch, hoping he could feel the sheer love that she held for him through her touch. How could she have been so lucky? Maybe it was a blessing from whatever-deity lived in the heavens, sending this cocky, stubborn, and lovable Qunari to her. Maybe they decided to bless her with some form of happiness in her fucked up life. Maybe it was Andraste, giving her “chosen one” a break. She could only imagine the Chantry’s rage at figuring out that their beloved Bride of the Maker favored _"Oxmen”_.  


“Sovereign for your thoughts?” Bull asked, brushing her hair from her face. She blinked hard, not realizing that she stopped to stare at him.  


“You can have them for free. If you’d like,” She pressed her body to his in a tight embrace, resting her chin on his chest.  


“What a steal,” he quipped back, grinning, “so what’s up Boss?”  


“Just thinking about how lucky I am.” She drew patterns onto his skin, creating imaginary swirls and curves.  


“Oh yeah?” She could hear the smile in his voice.  


“Yeah.” She glanced up at him, only to find him gazing down at her softly. “It’s not every day that someone confesses their love for me.” He feigned surprise.  


“What? Well that’s a shame—and a crime. You deserve nothing less.” At the last part of his sentence, all teasing had turned into the honest truth. Her face grew hot and she didn’t try to stop the smile that lit her face up.  


“Your confession is the only one that matters.” She gave him a quick kiss and nuzzled at his earlobe. He groaned and absentmindedly grasped at her behind.  


“Asa, you do know we have to wake up early, right?”  


“Mmhm.” She giggled and reluctantly pulled herself away from him, laying by him and burrowing into the space underneath his right arm. He curled his arm around her protectively, his left hand splayed across her hip loosely. She found her eyes drifting shut, no longer fighting the sleep that begged to envelope her. It was then, wrapped up with Bull, that Asaaranda realized that she finally found her way home—to him.


End file.
